Battle Scars
by emmylouuwho
Summary: We all have our scars. Short, ultra-fluffy moments when Jess and Becker discover each others'.


**Author's Note: **I don't know where this came from. Well, actually I do - I was watching 4.04 (again) and I randomly thought "How is he going to explain that giant bite mark to, well, anyone?" My brain had a fanfic explosion and here's the (very very fluffy) result.

* * *

><p>It had been nearly a month since the incident with the beetles, but there was still the faintest yellow tinge of a bruise high on her left thigh. Becker brushed his fingers over the skin there, while Jess slept on. Maybe he was only imagining it, wanting some definite proof that she was more fragile than she let on. Some proof that she needed his protection.<p>

Jess rolled to face him, her eyelids fluttering open to regard him sleepily. She just looked at him silently for at least a minute, then reached up to gently smooth the crease of a frown from between his brows.

"You're thinking awfully loudly," she whispered.

A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. "Sorry about that. Was I keeping you up?"

She nodded seriously, a playful glint in her eye. "I was fast asleep, but your self-flagellation keeps waking me."

"Very funny, Jessica."

"I thought so." She sighed. "Besides, that's a souvenir. My first experience with a creature incursion. Not very successful, but still."

"Just don't get any more, okay?"

"How do you know I don't have more already?"

Becker arched an eyebrow. "Care to share with the class?"

"Some other time." Jess grinned wickedly. Then she turned over, snuggling her back against his side with a contented sigh.

* * *

><p>The two of them were having a picnic on a blanket in the park, taking advantage of a rare day off and the summer sunshine. Becker lay on his back, eyes closed contentedly, while Jess lay on her stomach, pressed into his side, her forearms crossed on his chest. Her head rose off her arms, and she reached up to run a finger across the faint white line of a scar running through his left eyebrow.<p>

"How did this happen? I've always wondered."

"Would you believe me if I told you it was an injury sustained while doing something heroic?" he asked, opening his eyes reluctantly, squinting against the sun's glare. He caught her hand in his, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before bringing it back down to rest on his chest.

"That depends," she replied. "Is it true?"

"Yes. I heroically fell off the ladder to a friend's treehouse when I was eight." He let his head drop back onto the blanket, closing his eyes again, his lips twitching slightly.

"Poor baby," Jess giggled, planting a kiss on his chin, while he made a _harrumph_ing noise. "Did you cry?"

"Of course not, I was with my mates," Becker replied in a mock affronted voice. He paused, then added, "I waited until I got home. Then I cried."

Jess let out a surprised laugh, that turned into a shriek as his fingers began tickling her sides.

* * *

><p>It was obviously a bite mark; she would have known that even if she hadn't already known how he received it. Two long ridges of scar tissue on either side of four smaller scars, with another four about an inch below.<p>

The light from the street lamp outside shone through the window, a yellow stripe across the bed. Becker was still fast asleep; he roused easily, but had some innate ability to fall almost instantly back to sleep once he determined there was no danger. Jess envied him that; once woken, she had a lot trouble getting back to sleep. Jess' eyes were drawn to the shiny skin of the scar as she walked back into the bedroom from the bathroom.

The bite was just above his knee, and Jess never saw it without feeling a shiver of remembered terror run up and down her spine. Those few minutes when Becker's fate was unknown, when she thought he might be dead, were some of the longest of her life. Second only to the interminable amount of time spent waiting for either someone to come save Lester and herself or for the predators to return and finish them off. The thought of those horrific creatures sent another shiver through her, and Jess lay back down, molding her body against Becker's side. His arms came up around her, pulling her close.

"Cold?" he murmured, still mostly asleep.

She settled her head against his shoulder and laid a hand on his chest, over his heart.

"Better now," she whispered.

She fell asleep to the reassuring thrum of the heartbeat beneath her fingers.

* * *

><p>Jess was exhausted by the time she and Becker trudged up the stairs of her flat. He offered to draw her a bath, and she could've kissed him. Then she remembered she could, so she did, beaming up at him all the time.<p>

She'd just sunk into the deliciously warm water when she heard a knock on the door, followed by Becker entering, a glass of wine in each hand.

There was a low footstool in the corner of the bathroom that Jess used to reach the top shelf of the closet, and Becker pulled this over to sit behind her head, forearms resting on the side of the claw foot tub. He squeezed a dollop of shampoo into his hand. He proceeded to spend ten minutes massaging the soap into her hair. Jess alternated between wanting to pull him into the tub with her, clothes and all; and wanting to simply fall asleep under his soothing touch.

Becker pulled the showerhead down to rinse out all the suds, and it was then that he felt a small ridged scar on the back of her head. She must have felt his thumb running back and forth over the area, and sensed his question.

"I fell when I was little," she said simply. Then continued, "My sister and I were playing, and I fell backwards onto this stone urn in my gran's garden. There was blood everywhere, my sister ran into the house, crying and screaming that she'd killed me. It nearly gave my dad a heart attack. Lauren was inconsolable for hours."

Becker leaned down and around to kiss her damp cheek.

"Of course, then she tried to steal the pudding cup from my tray at the hospital."

Becker chuckled, and Jess turned to kiss him.

"Are you coming in here or not?"

* * *

><p>"Shot? As in bullets?" Jess asked, her voice rising tremulously.<p>

She'd found the small round scar on his right side, almost under his arm, and stared openmouthed when Becker told her the source of the wound.

"No Jessica, arrows," Becker deadpanned. "Of course bullets. I did spend two years in a war zone, if you'll recall from my file."

Jess just muttered, "Yes, but bullets." She straddled his legs, lifting his shoulder away from the sofa to find the exit wound. She ran her fingers over the rough skin, still in disbelief. Disbelief that was quickly turning into a surge of protective anger. She simply couldn't believe that someone had shot at her Becker. And not just with an EMD, like Matt had done, but with actual bullets. They actually intended to kill him!

Becker's hands came to rest on her hips as she released his shoulder. Jess looked into his eyes a moment, not trusting herself to speak.

Finally she said in a pained voice, "No more gunshot wounds, Captain. Do you understand me?"

"Yes ma'am," he replied, the serious look in his eyes belying the light tone.

Jess nodded.


End file.
